


East of the Sun and West of the Moon

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: 31 in 31: NHL Fairy Tales [22]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, New York Rangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 11:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12189096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: “'I would like to take your youngest away with me. Say yes, and your family will have as much money as you could desire.'”





	East of the Sun and West of the Moon

Once upon a time there was a poor family who could afford very little of what they needed, but they were happy. They had, at one time, been comfortably off enough to purchase hockey gear; they still owned this, and had occasionally been known to trade up when they outgrew it, but they had aged past this now, and their gear was aged and cracked. It was still usable, though, and it brought them joy and entertainment through the cold and hungry winter months. 

It was on a Thursday, late in fall, when the air was beginning to bite and the wind was blowing hard, that a rainstorm began. They huddled around the fire, taking warmth and comfort in it and in each other, telling funny stories to make each other laugh. The youngest and smallest had just finished his story, which had seen the longest and loudest bout of laughter yet, when they heard something tapping on the window, louder than rain or wind-blown leaves. The eldest went out to see what it could be, and was shocked to find a large brown bear. He was just backing away slowly when the bear spoke.

“Good evening,” said the bear.

“The same to you,” Marc replied.

“I would like to take your youngest away with me. Say yes, and your family will have as much money as you could desire.”

“Money would be nice, but I’m not in the business of selling my family,” Marc spat, and moved to go inside.

“Just think about it,” said the bear. “I will return in one week for your final answer.”

“It’ll still be no,” said Marc, and slammed the door.

But when he told the family what had occurred, Mats said at once that he would go with the bear. “If it will make things better for you, how could I not?”

Though they tried their very hardest to talk him out of it, he would not be swayed. So on the next Thursday, when the bear returned, Mats got on his back with his gear in a bag and said goodbye to his family.

Off they went through the woods, the moon filtering through the trees. An owl called overhead, making Mats jump.

“Are you frightened?” the bear asked.

“Not at all,” Mats told him.

They traveled a long way like this, silent under the night sky, until they reached at last a hill. The bear reached out a paw and knocked on the side of it, and a door opened noiselessly. They entered, and the interior was as a castle, gleaming in gold and silver, more splendid than Mats could ever have imagined, and the rink on the lowest level had ice so lovely and smooth he could barely wait to skate on it.

After eating, a feast beyond anything Mats had ever consumed, he felt very sleepy, and went to bed. But scarcely had his head touched the pillow before he heard someone enter the room next to his, who didn’t leave until dawn.

This was odd, but it was odder still when this went on for months without his ever seeing another human in the palace, or indeed anyone other than the bear, who was called Henrik. At last he could no longer stand it, and asked, “Who is it that sleeps in the room next to mine? You’re good company, but nevertheless I’m lonely, for my family are many and you are but one.”

“Please don’t ask me this,” the bear begged. “You will find out when it is time for you to know.”

For months, Mats respected Henrik’s wishes, and did not ask again. But at last he could stand it no longer, and in the dead of night entered the room next door, candle alight.

There, asleep on the bed, lay the loveliest king anyone had ever laid eyes on. Slowly, Mats approached the bed, and, without thinking, leant down to kiss him. But as he did so, the wax from his candle dripped onto the king’s shirt, waking him.

“What have you done?” he cried, and Mats knew the voice of the bear. “Had you held out this one year only, I would have been free. But now I must go play hockey for the Commissioner forever, in the rink east of the sun and west of the moon.”

Mats wept, but there was no help for it. “Can I go with you, at least?”

“You cannot.”

“Then tell me how to get there, and I’ll find a way.”

“There is no way there that you can walk. I know only that it lies east of the sun and west of the moon. This is all I can tell you.”

In the morning, Mats awoke on a bed of grass, both king and palace disappeared in the night. By his side lay his bag of gear that he had brought with him all those months ago. Again he wept for Henrik, for it was late in the summer, and he had nearly managed the year. But he knew he could not remain there forever, and so he dried his tears, picked up his bag, and set off on a journey. At last he arrived at the home of a young man who was playing with a golden puck, and explained what he was looking for, hoping for help. 

But Pavel said only, “All I know is that rink lies east of the sun and west of the moon, and you will get there late or never. But take this puck and ask my neighbor. He may know more.”

So Mats went on a long, long time, until the fall, when he came to the home of a young man who was playing with a golden stick. Again he explained what he was looking for. 

But Brady said only, “All I know is that rink lies east of the sun and west of the moon, and you will get there late or never. But take this stick and ask my neighbor. He may know more.”

And Mats went further on, and further still, until the season changed to winter. He came at last to another home, with a young man skating on a pond in the yard on skates of gold. Mats asked him, too, if he knew where the rink was.

And Jimmy said, “All I know is that rink lies east of the sun and west of the moon, and you will get there late or never. But take these skates and ask the East Wind. He may know those parts, and you’re small enough for him to blow you thither.”

The East Wind’s name was Kevin, and he had heard of the rink east of the sun and west of the moon, but had never blown so far. “But my brother, the West Wind, is older than I, and may have been where I have not.” And the East Wind took Mats to him.

The West Wind’s name was Chris, and he had also heard of the rink east of the sun and west of the moon, but had never blown so far. “But my brother, the South Wind, is older than I, and may have been where I have not.” And the South Wind took Mats to him.

The South Wind’s name was Michael, and he, too, had heard of the rink east of the sun and west of the moon, but had never blown so far. “But my brother, the North Wind, is stronger than I, and may have been where I have not.” And the South Wind took Mats to him.

The North Wind’s name was Ryan, and Mats could feel his cold breath for quite some time before they arrived. “What do you want?” he demanded of Mats in a voice that made him shiver. But when Mats told him what he was seeking, Ryan grinned. “I went there once, and was exhausted for weeks. But if you’re brave enough to go, I’ll try to blow you thither.”

“With all my heart,” said Mats, and so they went. At last they flew over an endless sea, and Ryan began to lose his strength.

“Are you frightened?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Mats replied, and at last Ryan dropped him on a distant shore.

All day, Mats saw no-one. But when he began to play with his golden puck, a small, gremlin-faced man poked his face out of a gate.

“What do you want for that?” he asked.

“It’s not for sale,” answered Mats. “But if I can see Henrik, it’s yours for nothing.”

The Commissioner, for it was he, seized the puck, and said, “Fine.” But that night he drugged the king, and no matter how hard Mats tried, he couldn’t wake Henrik, and in the morning the Commissioner drove him out again.

The next day, the same thing happened with the stick. But again, Mats couldn’t wake the king, and the Commissioner chased him out once again.

The third day, Mats gave the Commissioner the golden skates. But this time, the king’s servants had told him of the small, weeping man who had visited him the previous two nights, and he poured out the drugged drink. Mats was delighted to find Henrik awake, but horrified by the news he brought.

“You’re here just in time, for tomorrow I’m to sign a contract. But be waiting at the gate and we shall see what plan I can come up with.”

Well, the signing was to happen the next day in the dark, for gremlins cannot stand much sun, but ere he put pen to paper, Henrik proclaimed, “I will sign a contract only with one who can put a puck past me.”

Now, the Commissioner donned the golden skates, and grabbed the golden stick, and tried to shoot the golden puck past Henrik. But, try as he might, he could not score. So Henrik scoffed, saying, “You’re not worth a contract. Why, even that beggar lad outside the gate could do better! Let him in and watch him try.”

And Mats came in, and, quick as winking, had woven a pretty path in the ice and slotted the puck neatly past Henrik.

“You’re the lad for me!” he shouted, and fled out the gate of the rink. But as the Commissioner had been trying to score, the night had waned, and as the gremlins chased the two out of the gate, the sun came up.

The Commissioner melted in the sunlight, and Henrik and Mats went back to Mats’ family, never to return to the rink that lay east of the sun and west of the moon.

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is the only Norwegian fairy tale in the collection, and, as such, who better to star in it than everyone's favourite Norwegian player?  
> \- It's also my favourite fairy tale, as I mentioned in the end notes to the previous story. When I was pretty young, my mother gave me some textbooks she got for cheap from a school that was closing. This story was in one of them, and though I usually ignored the illustrations, the ones accompanying this story captivated me for some reason. So did the idea of something being "east of the sun, west of the moon." So of course I had to include it.


End file.
